


Agent Galahad and Mr. Hart

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Bar Fight, Civilian!Harry, Kingsman!Eggsy, M/M, Off-Screen Canon typical violence, Teacher!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry barely notices the other customer sitting down at the bar, so he’s surprised when Tom brings him another pint, since the man is not known for his generosity. Tom motion to a finely dressed gentleman that seems out of place in this setting, a silent indication as to whom he should direct his gratitude toward.</p><p>He smiles politely in gratitude and raises his glass in answer to the silent cheer from the stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent Galahad and Mr. Hart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johanirae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johanirae/gifts).



> So back in September it was the amazing johanirae‘s birthday. Some of you might know it, others might not, but she’s been one of my all-time favourite artist since I’ve started stalking fandoms back in the livejournal days. So because I want to thank her for all the gorgeous art she shares with us and because it’s always nice to receive gift, I offered to write a little something for her birthday.
> 
> This was the prompt “ _Woo woo, maybe an AU where Eggsy and Harry’s role is reversed in the bar scene and Eggsy is the spy who saves innocent teacher!Harry from being harassed from local thugs?_ ” and I think it’s self-explanatory enough that I don’t need to add anything.
> 
> johanirae HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! I HOPE YOU LIKE YOUR GIFT <33333

Agent Galahad has just come back from his latest mission, but instead of going right to the shop or HQ so he can be debriefed, he makes sure he’s still signed out and gets inside the Black Prince.

The pub might seem like a peculiar choice for a gentleman like himself, but even if he was lucky to have had the chance to make something of himself, he vowed never to forget where he came from. Thus had begun his post-mission tradition of coming to the Black Prince for a well-deserved pint.

It’s still early enough in the afternoon that besides himself and Tom, the owner, there is only another gentleman sitting alone in one of the booth. Galahad elects to sit at the bar, carefully choosing his spot so that he can see all the room with a glance.

While he’s waiting for his drink, he takes a moment to look more closely at the only other customer. He can’t see his face clearly, his body slumped over his nearly empty glass, but if his posture is anything to go by, the man is having a rough day. Maybe even week. His suit is not as recent as his own, but from what he can see of the fit, it’s clearly bespoke and not one of those off the rack aberrations. Usually Galahad would let the stranger have his peace, but something makes him gesture at Tom to get the man another pint of whatever he was having.

He knows all about shitty days and his kindness might not mean a lot in the long run, but maybe it will make all the difference for a brief moment.

He finally gets a good look at the man when he turns his head towards the bar in surprise and only his training stops him from gasping openly when he meets what had once been familiar brown eyes. However, since there is only politeness and gratefulness in the smile and no recollection, he merely raises his own glasses in a silent cheer.

Galahad might still remember Harry Hart because he had been the only teacher giving a damn back when he was in school, but it was only predictable that he would not have made a like-wise impression on the man. If the man is still a teacher, which probably is the case because you’re not that lively in a classroom if you don’t like what you do, he must have seen thousand of brat like him, smarter than what is good for them, yet made stupid by hormones and peer pressure. It doesn’t change the fondness he feels for his former teacher though. He’s a huge part of why he’s now Galahad, what he bases his ideal of a gentleman on.

He’s turned back to his own beer, but he still can feel Mr. Hart’s eyes on him and can see the tiny frown in the reflection of the mirror hung behind the bar. It’s not a bad frown, just a “where did I see him before” frown, so he stays relaxed.

He’s still contemplating going to sit down with him, see if the man would be amenable to some company, when the door opens on a group of men Galahad knows right away are bad news. They spare him only a quick glance, Galahad a master of projecting an aura that clearly spells ‘nothing to see here, except if you want to get fucked up’ around himself.

Instead they make a bee-line for where his former teacher is sitting, crowding the lone man menacingly.

~

Harry Hart is usually not one known to drink alone in the middle of the afternoon, but sometimes a pint is the only thing that can keep him going.

His friends would probably tell him he should either quit or change school, because God knows he’s had many offers through the years. But even though the neighborhood where he teaches at only seems to get rougher through the years, he doesn’t want to leave the kids. Not all of them appreciate what he does for them, but the couple of them that never fail to come thank him in person when they graduate make all his efforts seem worth it.

He barely notices the other customer sitting down at the bar, so he’s surprised when Tom brings him another pint, since the man is not known for his generosity. Tom motion to a finely dressed gentleman that seems out of place in this setting, a silent indication as to whom he should direct his gratitude toward.

He smiles politely in gratitude and raises his glass in answer to the silent cheer from the stranger. The young man turns back to his drink and Harry would do the same, except something tells him he should know the gorgeous stranger.

He’s about to get up and join him, maybe offer to repay the kindness with dinner later on, when the door opens on Dean and his usual group of thugs. His blood runs cold in his veins, but it’s already too late for a quick escape. Even if he was to reach the door, he could never outrun them and even in the street, there won’t be anyone to help him. He just hopes they will leave the kind gentleman alone.

“Hart! Exactly the man I was looking for.” Dean is smiling cruelly at him while his men snigger around him. “You’ve cost us a lot of money with your latest stunt.”

By which he means he’s tipped off the police about some of Dean’s men dealing on school ground. He knew that the man has too many connection that he would only be shortly inconvenienced, but he wasn’t about to turn a blind eye to the corruption of minors. If it lands him in a hospital so be it. At least he will still be able to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“Come on Hart, get up, we wouldn’t want to break Tom’s chair.”

Tom who conveniently went in the backroom as soon as he caught sight of Dean. Before Harry can answer, the young gentleman they had all forgotten about gets up and approaches the table.

“What’s the problem here? Can’t you let a man enjoy his drink in peace?”

As one, Dean and his thugs turn to the stranger, eyes narrowed suspiciously, two of them cracking their knuckles in an obvious threat.

“It would be best for your health if you didn’t put your nose in business that don’t concerns you.” It’s a warning, but Harry knows that if push comes to shove, Dean will probably only rough the stranger just enough to scare him. Dean might have connections, but the gentleman’s attitude screams money and probably enough influence to make his life hell.

Still, Harry really doesn’t want any harm to come to the young man because of him, so he tries smiling reassuringly. “You really should go. We only need to have a small conversation about our differences in life philosophy.”

He can see the young man isn’t buying it, which isn’t really surprising, but a pointed look makes him clench his jaw and nod reluctantly.

He turns his back on them and starts walking towards the door.

“That’s right, go hide behind your father’s money, wanker.” One of the thugs Harry thinks goes by the name Rotty or something similar spits out and the young man stops at the door, fists clenched.

Harry can see him take a deep breath and his tensed posture relax, one hand rising to the lock at the top of the door. “Manners. Maketh. Man.” Each words are punctuated by the sound of a lock sliding closed. “Do you know what it means?” Harry does, but he thinks it’s a safe bet to assume he’s the only one in the room, except the stranger. “No? Then let me teach you a lesson.”

Usually, Harry would never condone violence of any kind. But he can’t deny that looking at the gorgeous gentleman effortlessly wiping the floor with the very same men who would have beaten him to a bloody pulp isn’t satisfying. That and the young man does it with such elegance, that it gets Harry blood pumping.

Once all his opponent, plus Tom who got out of his backroom at the commotion, have hit the floor, the young man surveys the room before breaking out in a cheeky smile.

It’s only then that he realises that he does indeed know the young man in front of him, that a few years ago, those same blue-green eyes were looking at him in rapt attention from the back of his classroom.

“Eggsy…”

~

“Eggsy…”

His head turns around so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash when he hears the man whisper his preferred nickname.

“Didn’t think you would remember me, Mr. Hart. It’s been years.” Once again, he reflects on how lucky he is that he signed off before going into the pub. Right now he should be hitting Hart with an amnesia dart, not confirm his identity.

“You were one of my brightest student, of course I remember you.” They stay frozen for a while until a pained groan reminds them of their current situation. “Should we perhaps leave?”

“Wha- Yes, right, good idea.” What he really should be doing is dart his former teacher and drop some kind of anonymous tip to the police, but he cannot bring himself to it, not when Harry is not even freaking out about the display of violence. In fact, after inclining his head in gratitude when Eggsy holds the door open for him on their way out, the first thing he does is thank him.

“Thank you for stepping in. I fear I would not have fared as good as you did in a fight.” There’s a glint in his eyes that makes him shiver when Harry gives him a quick once-over now that they’re in the afternoon light as well as remember why Mr. Hart had featured quite prominently in his wet dreams and fantasies back when he was still a teenager.

“It was nothing really, they seemed like right dickheads.”

Harry snorts in amusement. “A correct assessment. Still, let me invite you to dinner.” His small smile turns disappointed when Eggsy starts shaking his head at his offer.

“Nah, I can’t accept, I didn’t do it to get anything in return really.” It kind of physically pains him to say no to Harry, because he does want to spend more time with the man, wants to know if the attraction he felt for him in his teenaged years is still there (it totally is), but he cannot bring himself to take advantage of the situation.

“A shame. I was rather looking forward to share dinner with the charming gentleman who paid for my second pint.”

There’s no mistaking Harry’s meaning at this, that he was interested even before being rescued and maybe it’s still not completely right, but Eggsy denies himself far too many things already, maybe it’s right to be selfish just once.

***

Eggsy later finds out that when it comes to Harry, his selfishness knows no boundary.

But that’s okay. Turns out, Harry Hart is a selfish bastard too.


End file.
